


washing away the hurt

by Kaijuscientists



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood, Caretaking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Movie, anxious joe, but the hurt has happened and this is all comfort, tired nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: a post movie clean up scene after the group leaves Merrick's building.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 245





	washing away the hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Focused mainly on Joe taking care of Nicky. I had to write them something a little fluffy to make up for whumptober.

Andy takes a winding route to a secluded safe house in the countryside, driving them for two hours the whole way. Even when Nile keeps offering to drive and let her rest. 

Normally, Joe would put his foot down in this kind of situation, but he himself is too distracted. Between keeping an eye on Andy without being too obvious, biting his tongue in an attempt to hold back all of the words he wants to throw at Booker, and watching Nicky in the backseat, he doesn’t have much attention to spare to driving. 

Any outsider looking in would see an exhausted man, dark bags under his eyes, watching as the world passed by outside. But Joe knows him as well as he knows himself, after almost nine hundred years. He can see the tension in his shoulders, how his jaw is clenched tightly, and he can feel the minute vibrations of Nicky’s leg bouncing softly against the back of his seat. 

Joe wants nothing more than to which ever safe house Andy has deemed safe enough and get out of this car. They all need to clean up, but Joe’s urge to take care of Nicky the way he deserves after what they've just been through is unbearable.

He had killed the man who had shot Nicky point blank in the head, but it hadn’t been enough. 

Joe is opening the car door before Andy even gets it shifted into park. He opens the backdoor in one smooth motion, helping Nicky out of the car, gathering him into his arms and into the house, away from Booker. 

“Thank you.” Nicky says quietly, and Joe can hear the exhaustion dripping from his words, can feel it in the way he leans on him as they walk inside. 

“Rest here, ya amar.” Joe says, leading Nicky to the threadbare couch in the living room. It really speaks to how he must be feeling that he does so without any arguments. 

Joe clears the house, checking every room to make sure it’s as safe as it can be as the others come in. Joe returns to the living room, tucking the handgun back into his waistband. 

“House is clear, boss.” Joe says, noticing with some relief that Booker either decided to hang outside for a while, or made himself scarce in the house. Regardless, the Frenchman isn’t around and Joe is grateful for it. It's a source of stress that he really doesn’t need right now, none of them too. He will need to be dealt with, but first they need to take care of themselves. 

“You wanna get cleaned up, Nicky?” Joe asks. 

Nicky is slouched on the couch, head tipped backwards and arms crossed over his chest. He tips his head to the side, cracking his eyes open to look at Joe, then over to Andy. “You should go first.”

“I’m fine, you can go first.” Andy says.

Joe frowns, he wants to argue. They are all covered in grime and blood, but as far as he’s concerned, Nicky has it the worst of all of them. 

Joe just wants to get it off him. The reminders of the lab, of Keane, of Nicky’s blown out head are still there. Bits of bone and brain probably stuck in his hair even now. 

However, he understands the logic. Andy is mortal now, doesn’t heal, and it’s very important that she cleans up to stop any potential infections. 

Rather than have a fight that he knows he’ll lose, Joe looks over at Andy, nods his head, and she goes to shower with Nile in tow to help with the first aid. 

Joe spends the time pacing the house, waking from room to room. Booker isn’t inside, and that honestly relieves a little of his anxiety, but not much. 

“You’re up, Nicky,” Nile says, popping out around the corner. “Andy’s asleep.”

“You can go first.” Nicky mutters, not moving an inch from his spot.

“You’ve got all the blood and stuff, you go.” Nile makes eye contact with Joe, raising her eyebrows. “I’m fine, promise, i’ve been through much worse.”

“Are you sure?” Joe asks, sinking into the spot next to him. Nicky fixes him with a look he knows all too well, and decides to relent again, knowing it’s still argument he won’t win today. “Go ahead Nile, it’s fine.” 

Nicky changes positions, from leaning back to curling up against the arm of the couch, pressing   
his face into the crook of his arm. 

“Babe, come here” Joe says softly, gathering Nicky out of his uncomfortable hunched over position and into his arms. He slides a hand around the back of his neck, guiding him so that his face is buried against his own neck, hoping to offer his love a little comfort against the pain he knew the man was feeling, but would not admit out loud unless he asked. 

Nicky tenses for a fraction of a second, his skin feels too sensitive, pulled too tightly across his bones. But then he melts against Joe like the strings holding him up were cut. A heavy arm wraps itself around Joe's waist, Nicky’s fingers grasp at Joe’s shirt, the soft texture between his fingers working to keep him grounded. 

They rest on the couch like that, Joe’s hand resting on the back of Nicky’ neck, Nicky slumped against Joe, dozing off but still aware of everything around him. 

Eventually Nile pops back around the corner. Stop herself with her mouth open. Obviously not wanting to disrupt the peace. 

She meets Joe’s eyes, cocks her head down the hall and he nods. 

“Nicolò,” Joe says softly, speaking quiet Italian, he knows Nicky is still awake but he might not be present fully. “Sweet heart, It’s our turn.”

Nicky hums, nuzzling into Joe’s neck, but makes no motion to get up. 

“Would you like me to carry you?”

Joe swears he can feel Nicky’s smile against his skin, as he wraps his arms around Joe’s neck. He lifts Nicky into his lap, standing with him in his arms. 

In the bathroom, Joe sets him down gently on the toilet lid. Nicky looks up at him with half lidded eyes and Joe can’t hold back what he’s been wanting to say all night. 

“Habibi,” Joe says, pressing a soft kiss to Nicky’s forehead, right between his furrowed brows. “You’re in pain.” It’s more of a statement and less of a question. Nicky would never deny it anyway, not when Joe is the one asking. Nicky nods, squinting his eyes, even in the dim light of the room. “Just my head.” He says slowly, bringing up one of his hands to touch the back of his head, stopping when he remembers he’s still a mess. “You know how it is.” 

“I do, I do,” Joe says softly, gently holding Nicky’s head between his hands. “We’ll try to make this fast, then you can rest in the dark. I'll do that thing you like, too.” 

Nicky hums happily, Joe’s fingers were magic and he always knew how to help with the migraine left over after a particularly nasty head injury. God, he could not wait to be horizontal, it would be a blessing. He can’t remember the last time he was this tired. 

They had been through so much at the hands of Merrick, Kozak, and Keane. Hours of poking and prodding, experiments and pain, and so, so many deaths. 

“Sit tight,” Joe says. “I’ll get the water going.” 

This safe house didn’t have a particularly nice bathroom. It had plumbing that functioned, but the shower itself was a sad little thing. Nestled in the corner, all cracked tiles and mildew, just a dripping shower head sticking out of the wall. Joe wishes they had a bathtub, if only because he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep Nicky upright. And after all that they had been though? Nicky deserves more than this. 

With two showers already down, he’s not counting on there being too much hot water, so he turns it all the way up and lets it run for a few minutes, a weak spray filling the tiny shower stall. When he sticks his hand in, it’s luke warm at best, but it’s better than freezing. 

He quickly sheds his disgusting clothes, and then helps Nicky out of his own. The man only manages to get his shirt half off before becoming tangled. 

He finally, finally pulls Nicky into the shower, immediately steering the love of his life right under the stream. The water runs red so quickly as it washes away layers of blood and grime and the touches of others who sought to hurt them. 

They’re pressed together, chest to chest, Nicky griping Joe’s hips to keep himself from swaying too much. 

“We’ll be quick,” Joe promises again, running his fingers through Nicky’s hair, gently massaging shampoo though. He’s glad that he’s facing him and that he doesn’t have to see what’s left of his skull stuck in his hair. “You’re doing so well.”

“Wish I could give you something better than this.” Joe says sadly, massaging his fingertips along Nicky’s scalp, rinsing the suds from his hair. 

“You know I’m happy anywhere you are, my love.” Nicky says, his words starting to slur together. 

Joe knows it’s sincere too, it’s the same for him. “But still, you deserve better, after everything that’s happened.”

Nicky hums, he knows, but this is the life they live. 

They make quick work of rinsing off, and Joe raids the linen closet for two thin towels. He wraps one around his waist, the other he tosses over Nicky’s head, scrubbing at his hair. It settles something in his chest when he lifts the towel to find Nicky’s lopsided smile there, just for him. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Joe says, draping the towel around his shoulders, leading him to their usual room. 

Nicky collapses on the bed, a dusty, lumpy mattress with a thin blanket. 

Joe tosses a pair of shorts he must have scrounged from the dresser at him. He shimmies them on before wiggling up the bed to finally lay his head on the pillow. He very nearly moans. When the bed dips and Joe slides in next to him, Nicky curls right into him. 

“After we deal with Booker,” Joe says, pulling Nicky closer to his chest, head tucked under his chin. “We’re going to get away for awhile, just us.”

“But Andy.” Nicky sighs, throwing an arm over Joe’s waist. “Is it a good idea?”

The reminder of Andy’s mortality feels like a knife to his heart every time. But she’s not gone, not yet, and she would survive without them for a while. 

“Just a month,” Joe says, rubbing long strokes up and down Nicky’s back. “She will be fine for that time, and we can’t let her teach Nile all her bad habits, can we?”

“No, that would be irresponsible.” Nicky says, a smile evident in his voice as he nuzzles into Joe’s chest. “Malta?”

“Malta,” Joe agrees, squeezing Nicky tight. The last few days had been violent and unnecessary and just too much. But laying here, with Nicky in his arms lifts a weight off his shoulders, and it felt so good to have his moon in his arms again. “No work, just you and me and that one hotel you liked.” 

“Sounds nice.” Nicky says. 

Joe shifts around, rearranging Nicky until he’s laying on his chest. With one hand he digs his fingers in at the base of Nicky’s neck, right where it meets his head, and this time he really does moan, arching into the touch. 

“Yusuf” Nicky sighs, the sharp pain in the back of skull starting to recede with every pass of his fingers. “You are a magician.”

“I know.” Joe says, allowing himself to feel just a little smug. He rubs Nicky’s neck and back until his breathing evens out. It’s probably the clearest indication for how Nicky is feeling, that he forgoes their usual sleeping arrangement, compulsively placing himself between Joe and the door. Opting to sleep draped over Joe instead. 

“Good night, habibi.” Joe whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head and pulling the blanket up to cover them.


End file.
